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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508337">Rome's Most Creative Pickpocket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carterpeggy/pseuds/carterpeggy'>carterpeggy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Romance, spamano - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:20:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carterpeggy/pseuds/carterpeggy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino Vargas makes his living as a thief on the streets of Rome. An easy enough task, considering the millions of clueless tourists and how carelessly they treat their valuables.</p><p>He never expected his latest scheme to result in his own heart stolen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ti ho conosciuto nel Colosseo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ongoing fic. Human AU, takes place in Rome.</p><p>This is based off a paragraph-style RP, so there will be frequent POV switched between our two heroes.</p><p>Thank you for clicking on this and enjoy the ride! I plan to respond to all comments so please leave one :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> “Benvenuti!” </em> the tour guide at the front of the bus forced himself to greet cheerfully. He introduced himself to his <strike> prisoners </strike> <strike></strike> passengers and pointed out the “beautiful Roman sights” for the eightieth time that day. One of the passengers on the hot, overcrowded bus was Antonio. At first glance, he looked like a local with no reason to be on this rickety tourist bus. His Mediterranean features distinguished him from the pudgy, sunburnt faces that surrounded him -- in fact, he had been asked for directions in both broken Italian and English by a few of his fellow passengers.</p><p>“You don’t look like a tourist, are you Italian?” a few curious strangers asked him. “Spanish, actually, though I don’t know a word of either language!” he replied with a grin. That seemed to satisfy them, and the lot of them soon returned to leafing hurriedly through their dog-eared travel guides and phrasebooks.</p><p>Upon closer inspection, he exhibited the behavior of anyone visiting a strange new country. A camera hung from his neck, and he carried a shoulder bag full of all sorts of travel dictionaries and maps. Perhaps the greatest evidence of his foreignness was his slack-jawed expression at <em> literally everything that he saw. </em> The overpriced trinkets and the people who sold them were just as fascinating as the ancient Roman landmarks. It was all so <em> vivid </em> and <em> real </em> and <em> beautiful </em>. As the bus neared the Colosseum, Antonio pressed his face against the smudged glass and grinned wildly. There it was! He exited the bus after twenty minutes of waiting for everyone in front of him to get off, and practically skipped to the courtyard to get a better look. He stood up straighter and, with his hands on his hips and a satisfied smile, stared in awe at what was in front of him. There was the Colosseum, in all its ancient glory.</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>The crowds around the Colosseo hadn't truly kicked in yet, what with many locals and tourists still on a lunch break. This was unfortunate for Lovino. His former peace at the last outside table in the row along the building of the <em> Squisito Cook </em> was continually disturbed either by a shouting child or the passing conversations of customers passing him by. Not to mention the conversation one group of English were having, the gist of it being some bullshit about "bloody fags," and he was pretty sure they didn't mean the cigarettes. It made him sick to think about, so he drowned out the language altogether, and all the foreigners' quips and comments slid into one changing sound. His back was to them, and a swiped wallet and clutch hanging off the back of a chair in an open bag surely wouldn't go amiss. In the next few minutes, anyway. </p><p>He asked for a box for the last 3/4 of his pizza, paid his bill, and packed the food before standing to go, taking a moment to button his vest back up, hiding his new treasures underneath. <em> No point in eating around this kind of trash, it ruins the flavor. </em>Lovino stepped over the rail between the tables and the street, only to be interrupted by his text alert.  </p><p> </p><p><em> lovi!! don't forget to buy belle a congrats gift before you get home!! </em> </p><p> </p><p>Right. Her graduation party. More money to swipe, then. He began to scope out the crowd before another buzz interrupted him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> i know you won't forget but there was that one time with your ex and we both know how that went so i just want to be sure!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Glaring at his phone, he sent back a quick,</p><p><br/>
<em> Grazie, Feli. Remind me to eat all of your gelato later, ok? </em>
</p><p><br/>
before silencing his phone. Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, pizza box still in hand, he glanced over the dispersed crowd before him.</p><p> </p><p>One guy was just staring at the old ruin. Unfortunately, while he wouldn't notice anything disappearing from his person, anyone else around would. This guy looked like a first-time tourist, so maybe he was dumb enough to carry literally everything he needed on him at all times. In truth, that wasn't a dumb thing to do, but having it all in one neat, little fold of leather was rather convenient. He grinned and waltzed up behind him, making a point to look bored. In Italian (for the sake of seeing the guy stumble and fail with the language because he really, <em> really </em> pulled off the 'tourist' look) he huffed, "Ey, moron, that thing closes to the public at seven, you just going to stare at it all day until it does a trick? Get going!"</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>A startled, wide-eyed Antonio immediately snapped out of his daydreams and into reality, where some guy was shouting at him from behind in unbearably fast Italian. <em> Quick, Antonio! Say something, anything! </em> He turned to face the stranger, holding his hands up defensively and slightly shaking his head. "Eh– yo no– io no..." he made wild hand motions as he tried to remember what his phrasebook had said, as if the gestures could physically remove the words from his throat. "Non.. non hab–parlo italiano!! There we go! I remembered!" He managed a triumphant, yet nervous smile once he got the words right, and took a closer look at the stranger.</p><p><em> Dang. Europeans ARE hot </em> . His eyes were a color unlike any he'd ever seen– they were an amber that nearly glowed, and his dark hair framed his handsome face <em> just so </em> . Of course, he would have been even prettier if he weren't glaring angrily at him... <em> Right! The hot guy's mad at me. </em> He shook his head and continued to mix up the languages he barely knew. "What did you say?" he tilted his head, as if that would magically make him a master of the Italian tongue. "Uh, do you speak– hablas– parle inglés–INGLESE! Parla inglese?" The foreigner sighed in frustration with furrowed brows, and pouted childishly. <em> I hope I pronounced that all right... </em></p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>At all the wild motions, Lovino almost took a step back. This guy clearly didn't use a proper first-time traveler guide book for Italy; at least half of the motions he was doing were rude. He gave him a proper once-over and had to do it again. <em> What the hell is this guy's damage, he looks European. </em> And English? Why not Spanish, or Greek, even. His features were nicely defined, nothing like a "squish face" his brother once lovingly described Americans having. And his <em> eyes </em> . <em> Whoa. </em> He'd never seen such a bright and vibrant pair, they even put his half-brother's boyfriend's to shame. He held his pizza against his hip with one hand and with the other, took the pair of sunglasses hanging from his shirt collar and put those on. Too bright today. Piecing together the word order, he offered, confused, "¿Tú no hablas español?" Lovino waved it off with a gesture of <em> Finito! </em> or <em> No more. </em> This time, in English, he admitted, "Better that you know English; I don't even know Spanish, besides a few phrases." He grinned at the man, continuing. "Maybe I should keep talking Italian to you, though, and see how many more rude gestures you can make, idiota. Seriously, what kind of guide book did you use?"</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>Okay, he looked <em> really cool </em> putting those shades on his face. Designer, no doubt. He was probably a model. The only thing stopping him was his height. And that pizza box at his hip? Were all Italians this... Italian? Antonio almost wasn't listening, instead admiring his new company. But upon hearing the more familiar language, he vacillated between his feelings of relief and frustration. For the most part, he understood Spanish just fine; it was speaking it back to people that was the problem. He mentally braced himself to reply, "Solamente un poco," silently cursing himself for refusing to speak the language when he was younger. He was all the more grateful when the stranger dismissed himself and began speaking English, albeit not exactly the English Antonio would have liked to hear.</p><p> "Rude gestures?" he asked in a sort of panic. "Was I really just–oohh, no! You're right, I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry!" <em> Nice one. You flipped off the hot Italian in his own language. </em> He continued his sorry excuse for an apology, "Apparently not a very good one. I'll admit I didn't read all of it. Some of the pages were stuck together, you see," he chuckled and tittered nervously, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. He was <em> not </em> making the best first impression on this man. Bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, he concluded, "I thought I'd learn as I went," before he embarrassed himself any further.</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>His mouth twitched up a moment when the stranger actually called himself an idiot. Usually when Lovino insulted people it was turned back on him; this was refreshing. He rolled his eyes at not even reading the entire book. The man was honest, at least. "Well, there's lesson number one: don't just go around waving your arms," he waved his hand and (lightly waved) his pizza box some for emphasis, "like some fool until you know what you're saying. In a bigger city like this, it's usually not a big deal, since we're used to tourists not knowing what they're doing, but farther into the countryside?" He flattened his hand with his thumb curled, moving it side to side at the wrist. Realizing that the man was still a tourist and mentally smacking himself for bothering with hand gestures, he clarified, "It'd be an open invitation for anyone to beat you." Lovino leaned to the side, looking behind the taller tourist at the Colosseo behind him. "You're with that tour group there, yeah?" He nodded over to the group of tourists passing the two of them with guides matching one sticking out of Mr. Nice Eyes' bag.</p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>Antonio nodded slowly, wide-eyed, and watched with rapt attention at the supposedly vulgar gesture, making a mental note to <em> never, ever </em> recreate what he just saw, at least here in Italy; it'd be a hoot back in the States to teach foreign vulgarities to his friends. Alfred, especially, would get a kick out of it. Antonio put home from his mind for the moment, though. "Gotcha," he replied to the man's warning, and followed his gaze to his fellow tourists. "I am, actually! We're here for two whole weeks, I'm so excited! How'd you guess?...Actually, don't answer that. I probably look like a total noob." Antonio's usual smile nonetheless returned easily to his face as he shrugged sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>"Just call it natural intuition," he grinned. "That particular tour doesn't allot for lunch until 13– er, one PM, and believe me when I say you don't want to be stuck in that stone oven for half an hour or more during the hottest part of the day. Especially when you haven't even eaten." Putting on a grand façade of generosity, he announced, "Because of some disgusting tourists that took a table behind mine, I've had to end my lunch early. I'll cut you a deal, stranger. Make my day, and I'll make yours.”</p><p><br/>
He took out the stolen clutch, a thinly folded thing that thankfully was the right shade of orange to match his vest. "I'll reimburse you for whatever you paid for today's part of the bus tour, and I'll take you on an actual tour of Roma. But in return you buy us food. And some lemonade. Maybe gelato later, I don't know." He blamed his little brothers for this sudden burst of kindness. <em> Well, as kind as kindness can be when I'm still planning to take anything valuable this guy has. </em> The both of them were kind-hearted and more openly so than he ever had been, and with his Grandfather visiting an old friend of his in Germany, the last week had been no-one but the three of them, and as the temporary elder of the house, he had to be around them more than usual to keep them out of too much trouble. Their self-adopted sister Belle offered to keep an eye on Feliciano and Sebastian both so Lovino could avoid strangling the two of them for one day while she was in town. <em> I really have to find her a nice graduation present. </em> Besides, this gave him all the more reason to not go home yet. "So, what do you say? Gonna stay with this wreck of a crowd or get a real tour with yours truly?" He smiled proudly, holding out his hand. "Lov–" he cleared his throat and coughed, hoping that didn't look too obvious, "Lorenzo. Lorenzo Valenza. At your service."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Secondo io, Roma è la vera città dell'amore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let's find someplace more quiet.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the man spoke, Antonio nodded and hung onto every word, extremely grateful for all the kindness. As he listened, his smile grew to a grin that made his cheeks ache and refused to go away. <em>Hot AND nice? Is he for real? Lord, have mercy</em>. He hoped his blush wasn't too noticeable at "Make my day, and I'll make yours." It sounded rather flirty, and made his heart skip a beat. He practically giggled at the offer of a tour. A real tour of Rome, from a native Italian– this had to be a dream. Antonio quirked an eyebrow at the coughing, but brushed it off with a shrug, as he was too excited to pay it much mind. "You're too kind! I'd love to, Lorenzo, " He said the name the Spanish way, with a lisp on the z. He'd rather approximate the true pronunciation than sound like the American tool that he was. "My name's Antonio Fernández Carriedo!" he said with a flourish, shaking Lorenzo's hand eagerly with both of his own, then letting go with a giggle. "But that's a mouthful. You can just call me Toni." He took a moment to adjust his shoulder strap, which had begun to slip off, then pointed at Lorenzo's clutch. "You better put that away," he said, raising his eyebrows in mock warning. "You're not paying for anything! It'll be my treat," he put a hand to his chest in earnest, "honest. You're doing enough for me as it is." His smile softened.</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p><em>This guy has to be from Spain or Greece, no American is this ready to trust a total stranger. Poor guy</em>. The blush went unnoticed through his shades, and he couldn't help his smile widening at the giggle. <em>Oh, you poor fool.</em> To be fair, a full tour of the city was probably worth what he had on him, credit cards withstanding, so really he wasn't doing too bad a deed. Probably. That animated handshake threw him off guard a moment, smile faltering to surprise. A moment later his blood went cold at 'you better put that away.' His mind ran a mile a minute, <em>Porca troia! Did he see me take it?! Oh mio di– oh. Ohhh.</em> "Uhm... That's.. very sweet of you. Grazie." He didn't even realize he was blushing, the moral conflict in his head too great a distraction. <em>Shit. Shitshitshitshit, god fucking–</em> This is the chance at redemption Padre Danilo told him about in reconciliation. <em>Shit. Fuckin'–</em> "UGH." <em>Shit, that was out loud!</em> He motioned for Toni to ignore that, waving it off. <em>What if God has sent me an angel and this is some test?</em> He sighed in resignation, his mind abruptly coming to the conclusion that the day would work itself out and the problem would settle itself somehow. He collected himself before setting up his wall again, coming off as if he owned the whole city. Which, in one respect or another, he supposed he did. "Alright, getting the food is first– You see that shop just across the street? Squisito Cook? Go in there, get what you want, and order me a lemonade as well. Strawberry." He nodded affirmatively. "Oh, and the cashiers in there speak English, so you're good to go. I'll wait at the bus stop, va bene? And don't forget, I have almost a whole pizza here that I'm not finishing on my own, so take that into consideration." He turned and went to leave, looking up and down the road before crossing, waving with his free hand for Antonio to follow. "Bus stop is over there, take your time ordering, the crowd in that place is thick, but our ride won't be here for another twenty minutes. You've got time." He parted from the man, taking a right onto the sidewalk. "Oh!" he threw over his shoulder, "Extra strawberries on the lemonade! Don't mess it up, bastard!"</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>Antonio flashed a quick "you're welcome" wink, and when Lorenzo blushed and huffed in exasperation, another giggle escaped him. He, of course, couldn't know the real reason for it, and chalked it up to his own flirting– if that was even what he was doing. Still, it was adorable how he tried to compose himself and act like nothing had happened. Antonio suspected it was a habit of his. </p><p>He nodded as he listened to the instruction, his lips slightly parted and his gaze focused entirely on his guide. When Lorenzo turned away from him, Antonio scurried behind, like a child following after his mother. "Hey, wait, you're not coming with me?" he asked as he tried to keep up, almost in a panic, not at all flinching at being called "bastard."  It was sort of endearing, at least coming from Lorenzo. <em>What if I get lost? Or I forget what he wants?</em> At the man's shake of his head–"Bus stop, I said. I'm not going anywhere. You can handle yourself–" he huffed dejectedly and slumped his shoulders as he went on his way. "Extra strawberries in the lemonade. Extra strawberries in the lemonade. Extra..." he muttered to himself as he walked, turning back every few seconds to make sure Lorenzo wasn't a mirage, and smiling when he was still there behind him, rolling his eyes. </p><p>It did take him the entire twenty minutes like he'd been warned, and it HAD been stuffy and crowded inside, but Antonio successfully made it out of the Squisito Cook unscathed, with a glass of lemonade with extra strawberries and a Pepsi in tow.  <em>It's my first full day here. I'm homesick. I won't eat or drink anything from home from here on out. I swear.</em> If he hadn't been holding drinks, he would have skipped all the way to the bus stop. He settled for walking, but with a spring in his step, and whistled to get Lorenzo's attention. "Got 'em!" he cried as he reached the bus stop. "Hope you've still got that pizza, I'm famished." He held out Lorenzo's cup and wrapped straw to him. </p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>As the twenty minutes came to a close, Lovino glanced back towards the restaurant every ten seconds or so, worried they'd miss their ride that was only a stop sign away. He didn't want to walk all the way there, that's just too much. Another worried glance back towards the eatery and he couldn't help the immediate eye roll that followed. Even if he wasn't skipping, his happiness was as apparent as his brother's usually was. He got a few side stares from others at the bus stop at being whistled at, to which he hand-signaled for the few onlookers to go away. Lovino turned his head to Antonio's direction, taking the drink once he was close enough. "Calm down, you idiot." He stuck the straw's wrapper in his pocket and brought it to his mouth, muttering "You'll ruin my image," before taking a sip. He looked over his shades at the man in response to the obvious. "No, I threw our pizza away. I'm just carrying its now empty box because it makes me look cool. You got me." He took another sip as the bus doors opened for half the bus to empty. Lovino turned to Antonio and pointed at his face, drink in hand, ordering "No more stupid out of you 'til we get there." With that, he got on, taking a window seat, Antonio in tow. Seven minutes or so later, they arrived a block or so away from the entrance to Villa Celimontana.</p><p>Lovino got out behind Toni and lightly hit him on the arm, waving for him to follow. A short walk later and they were met by a little courtyard and twin statues outlining the entrance. He spun around, arms out, to introduce the place. "Benvenuto a Villa Celimontana, one of the most gorgeous Villas in all of Rome!" he announced proudly. "I'll spare you the history and all that stuff tourists are into until after lunch," he added with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>~~~☙❁❧~~~</p><p> </p><p>Antonio mirrored his grin as he inspected his new surroundings. "Oh, wow! You mean <em>the</em> most gorgeous! It's so pretty up here!" <em>I wish I had someone special I could bring here... but, I guess I do? Why bring me here, of all places?</em> "It's so romantic!" he remarked as they walked along, admiring the vines and greenery that adorned the myriad of nooks and crannies a pair of lovers might use as a hideaway, and blushing at the thought. After a few moments, he lowered his voice, and his guard, and dared to let himself say, "I don't know what they make all that fuss about over in Paris," He hesitated for a moment, unsure about finishing the thought. <em>Too late. Might as well be out with it.</em> "One look at this place, and Rome is the 'City of Love' in my eyes." He quickly shifted his now wide-eyed gaze away from Lorenzo, who he hoped hadn't noticed him looking. His cheeks and the back of his neck burned in embarrassment. <em>Why would you say that! You just met the guy! Chill.</em> Antonio cleared his throat and tried to smile the nerves away. "But it's true," some other part of him said. "ANYway," he began a bit forcefully, "What looks like a good place to have lunch?" <em>Like a picnic– calm down, dammit</em>. He pointed at a stone bench a few feet away, which was in a shady spot under some branches that hung overhead. "Um, how about over there? We won't melt in the sun that way." With that, he figured he'd said something that Lorenzo would consider stupid enough to suffice as a distraction from whatever embarrassing thing he had been rambling on about earlier. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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